


Under the Desk

by Trin303



Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Almost Caught, Exhibitionism, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, just kidding they're kinda caught
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26989624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trin303/pseuds/Trin303
Summary: Kinktober 2020Prompt Chapter One: Almost CaughtMarcus comes to visit and John makes her hide under the desk. Revenge is hers for the taking.Prompt Chapter Two: SpankingJohn gets even
Relationships: Helen Wick/John Wick
Series: Kinktober 2020 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1962415
Kudos: 17





	1. Almost Caught

It was easy to fall into a relationship with John, Helen thinks as she lays in his huge bed, watching the light rise over his property. John’s was already awake, had kissed her good morning, and he went downstairs to make coffee.

John was sweet. And caring. Generous in his attention. He spoiled her mercilessly but it was so much more than that, too. It was the way he made her coffee every morning and made space for her in his closet. The way he installed security over her house and did everything in his power to protect her.

He was paranoid but for the right reasons. He wanted her safe and he was terrified, above all else, that she was going to get hurt because of him.

She understood. She knew what he did. She knew he had enemies.

But that part of their relationship was hard.

The secrecy. The lies. Telling her family she was single but still dodging every date her mother tried to set her up on.

John didn’t really have to lie that much. He had acquaintances but he lacked friendship, outside of Helen. But she was still a secret. Someone he went home to but never spoke about. 

She understood. But it hurt.

Still, she would never let him know. The guilt was already heavy on his shoulders and she didn’t want to add to it.

Helen sighs and rises to her feet. She picks up John’s shirt off the ground from where it had fallen the night before as they collapsed together in bed. She rolled up the sleeves and walked down the hall just as John made his way up the stairs, carrying two mugs.

He handed her the daisy mug and Helen accepted. “Thank you, baby.”

“You’re welcome. I need to check my email. Want to come?”

She follows him into his study and leans against his desk as John boots his laptop.

“What do you want to do today?” John asks as he waits.

Helen shrugs a shoulder, “Lazy day? Crap television, crap take out, and amazing sex?”

He smirks, glancing up over his laptop. “Oh yeah?”

“It has my vote. Followed closely by crap television, amazing take out, and crap sex.”

John reaches for her and Helen sets the coffee on the desk, letting John tug her forward and onto his lap. She laughs, softly, as he tickles her sides.

Helen rests her head on his shoulder, "I love you."

He kisses her head, "I love you too."

She smiled and breathed in his delightful scent. Life was good.

“John? You home?” A male voice calls up the stairs.

“Fuck!” John swears.

“Who’s that?”

“Marcus. Fuck!” John says again. “Can you go to the bedroom and stay there?”

Helen rolls her eyes, “I thought Marcus was your friend.”

“He’s as close as I have but…”

“But?”

“Please, Hels. I’ll get rid of him fast?”

“John?” The voice is getting closer.

“Under the desk.” John says quietly.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“Please, Hels.”

“Fuck.” She swears, looking completely unamused. “Fine, but you owe me so bad for this, John.”

“Whatever you want.” He promises, placing a hand on her shoulder as she slips to her knees and crawls under the desk. Never has John been so grateful to have such a large desk before in his life.

“You home?” Marcus calls.

“In the study.” John hollers back and Marcus appears in the doorway.

“Did Donovan really take a case out from under you?” Marcus asks, walking in. From her hiding spot, Helen can hear the sound of a chair being dragged out on the floor.

John scoffs, “I gave it to him. It was on a deadline and I have things to do this weekend.”

“Yeah, you look real busy. But Donovan is going around telling everyone that he snatched it out from under you.”

John leans back in his chair and Helen smiles as a thought forms. John had put her under a table. Well, fuck. 

If he was going to play this like that then she was going to damn well take advantage of the situation. It doesn’t take much to lean forward and crawl between his thighs. She feels him stiffen, ever so slightly, as she reaches through the opening of his sweatpants and wraps a hand around his dick.

“I’ll talk to him Monday.” John says and she knows that he is slipping into assassin-mode. He is becoming the man who can walk on a broken leg and continue to choke the life out of someone with a gunshot wound. He’s pulling that blank face down and she wonders, idly, if he can really keep it up.

She pulls him out of his pants as John continues to talk.

“But I have to say that Seamus Donovan isn’t high on my list of concerns.”

She runs her hand down his length, bringing his semi-hard cock to life before her. She uses a finger to trace the veins as Marcus speaks up.

“Nor should he be. Winston already publicly called him out about it and he went back.”

Helen is no longer listening as John’s cock pulses in her hand. She glances up, although she cannot make out his face over the desk and she brings her tongue to his length. She licks the head, swirling her tongue around his tip.

A hand grasps her hair and tries to pull her back. He can’t do much, however, without drawing attention to her. And she knows that John would much rather be tormented by her mouth than to have her revealed to anyone in the Underworld.

Jokes on him, she decides, keeping a hand at the base of his cock.

As much as she would like to take him down her throat, to choke and gag on him, she can’t do that silently. 

The next best thing will have to be this.

She bobs her head gently, taking him as deep as she dares while John’s hand tightens in her hair. Again, the joke is on him. As if a little hair pulling will stop her.

He’s still talking to his friend casually telling him about some fake plans he has. Such a liar. She almost wonders if she should stop just before he comes. If she should take him to the edge, make him rock hard under the desk, bring him to the moment of release and stop. 

It was a delightful thought. 

And he must sense what she is thinking because he loosens the grip on her hair and tugs her forward.

She must have slowed down, she realizes, because John is fucking her face as carefully as he can.

“I don’t think so.” John says, and she wonders if his friend has noticed the slight change in his voice, “I’m trying not to take any foreign cases right now.”

“Why not?” Marcus asks, “You’re usually the main guy for international.”

Helen almost snorts.  _ Because,  _ she thinks, moving her hand to gently massage John’s balls,  _ he’d have to go days without this mouth. And poor John just can’t do that anymore _ .

She feels him tighten in her hand and she softly inhales, preparing for what is to come.

His cock pulses and his cum spills into her mouth, salty and thick. She swallows him down without a thought and the only evidence that anything has changed was a momentary hitch in John’s breath.

He’s going to get her back for this, she knows. Good. Maybe if she teases him a little harder, she’ll get his belt. 

She sits back on her knees, listening as John wraps up the conversation, insisting that he’ll be leaving soon himself.

She hears the chair be pushed out and poor John can’t even stand, his dick still poking through his pants.

“I’ll see you Monday, then.” Marcus says, moving towards the door, “Oh, and John?”

“Yeah?”

“Nice try at subtlety, but you got two coffee mugs on your desk.”

Oh yes, she’s definitely earned the belt.


	2. Caught

Oh yes, she’s definitely earned the belt.

Helen tries to withhold a laugh as the door shuts behind Marcus.

John is still sitting at his desk, his now limp cock hanging out of the opening of his sweatpants. And Helen is on her knees, under his desk, after trying and failing to hide from John’s friend. Like it or not, someone in the Underworld knew that John Wick was taken. 

She tries so hard, but the giggle erupts from her lips and John’s hand grabs the opening of her shirt. Well, really it was his shirt that she had picked up off his floor. John pulls her out from under the desk and Helen can’t help but laugh harder at the look of embarrassment and horror etched onto John’s face.

Helen takes a deep breath to try and school her face again but the look in his eyes has her hysterical.

The Baba Yaga, the most feared assassin in the fucking world, just got caught getting a blowjob.

Nothing phased John Wick. Nothing.

Not gunshots wounds or being stabbed. Breaking bones or concussions. A shot of bourbon for the pain and he was good to go.

But this had him red in the face and completely unmoving.

Helen looks away to calm her breathing. In and out, she thinks. And when she can finally take a breath in, she looks back to John.

His eyes are darkened and his face his perfectly masked.

“Bedroom. Now.”

Helen forces herself not to smile, knowing exactly what is to come. She climbs to her feet and quickly strides from her room and down the hall. She can hear John behind her and it fills her with anticipation.

She turns as she makes it to the bed and John’s hands lunge forward, grabbing the edges of the shirt and ripping it open. Buttons fly off, scattering across the room.

And she knows she’s already in trouble but she can’t fucking resist, “Jokes on you, John. That was your shirt.”

He tears it down her arms and leaves her naked. “I’d put you on your knees if you didn’t like it so much.” Instead, John walks around her and sits on the end of the bed. “Come here. Now.”

She steps forward and John grabs her arm and yanks her over his lap.

“I’m curious. Indulge me.” John says, his nails raking over her ass, “Could you not resist being a bad girl or were you so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t wait ten fucking minutes?”

His non-dominant hand goes around her hip and rests on her wet, dripping core. Two fingers slip easily into her pussy and he curls them, making her moan.

“Tell me, babygirl, was it my cock that got you soaking? Or were you getting off on being a bad, bad girl?”

“Both!” She nearly shrieks as his fingers speedily move inside her.

“Both.” John repeats, thoughtfully. 

And she does shriek, as his right hand comes down exceptionally hard and unexpected on her ass.

John exhales, moving his fingers inside her.

“Mmm, you clench so hard when I slap your ass. Makes me think you like it. Do you like it, Helen? Is that why you’re so bad? Because you think you’ll get to feel more of this?”

His hand strikes again, three times, in quick succession and the sounds that leave her mouth are ungodly.

“Jesus Christ, Hels.” John pulls his fingers back and she whimpers before he pushes forward, sending a third into her insides. “This is supposed to be a punishment and you’re just soaking my fingers. I bet I could get this entire hand inside you, if I wanted.”

She has a sharp intake of breath at the thought.  _ Fuckkkk. _

“But again,” she can’t see his face but she knows he’s shaking his head. His hand comes down, once on each side of her ass. It stings but she can’t help clenching around his fingers at the pleasure of it all. “Again, you would like it too much.”

His three fingers curl inside of her and she cries out, nearly coming at the sensation, before John roughly yanks them out of her.

She keens at the loss and John wraps his soaked hand in her hair, uncaring if he’s covering her long locks in her own juices. He pulls back and forces her up and out of his lap before tossing her towards the bed, leaving her bent over. Ass in the air. 

John sinks to his knees and bites the soft flesh, hard.

Helen cries out and John reaches around, teasing her clit yet again.

“How can I punish you when you’re such a dirty little girl?” John asks, nipping again at her ass. He pushes back to his feet and pushes her head into the mattress, making a point. He warns, “Don’t move.”

She’s tempted to, just to see what he’d do, but she stays in place.

She waits, her heart racing all the more. She hates not looking, not knowing what he’s about to do. And John knows it, too. He’ll take advantage of it, especially now.

She hears the crack of a belt being slapped against itself.

But she can’t’ see where John is. And he can be so damn quiet when he wants to be. When she first found out he was an assassin, she had almost laughed. John? Her John? Who folded his socks and nervously handed her bouquets of daisies? Killing people?

But she started to pick up on it eventually. The little things.

How quiet he could be without even trying.

The way he looked over his shoulder when they were out in public.

His ease with a knife in the kitchen.

Pieces came together, or rather, into focus.

Her assassin.

Her dark, dangerous man.

And she had been naughty.

Baba Yaga was coming for her but Helen knew he would be far more merciful to her than to anyone else who challenged him.

The leather of his belt traces down her back and Helen inhales sharply.

“Do you know why they call it ‘discipline?’” John asks.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

Helen swallows, closing her eyes as John drags the leather over her ass, her thighs.

“It’s Latin. From ‘discipulus . To teach.”

“Very good. Discipline is all about teaching. Correcting bad behavior. And we both know you’ve been very bad, don’t we?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sorry?”

Not even a little bit. Helen hesitates and lies, “Yes.”

“Liar.”

Without warning, the leather slaps against each side of her ass once.

Helen lets out a breathy moan of surprise.

“After that fucking display, you want to lie to me? Fuck, babygirl, it’s almost like you don’t want to sit down for the next week.”

Helen feels her wetness dripping down her thighs and she squeezes them together.

“Un-fucking-believable.” John swears, letting loose on his belt again and again and again and again.

She cries out at the sharp sting of it and her pussy clenches on nothing. That, more than the pain, makes her whimper.

“What do I have to do to you so that you learn?” John ask and again, he strikes down.

Helen is shaking, he notes, but still, she raises her ass in the air to meet each and every blow. He can see the glisten of her own cum coating her legs.

Later, he decides, he’ll lick it off of her. But now, now he has to remind her that she belongs to him. That sucking his cock is a privilege and not a right.

So he strikes again. 

The belt slaps her ass loudly and her every whimper and cry has him hardening again.

So much he can do to her, he thinks. 

So many ways to remind her of her place.

Writhing beneath him unless he says otherwise.

And, fuck, but her ass looks beautiful in red.

He makes good on his promise. She won’t sit for a week. Perhaps, he’ll tie her to the bed on her stomach. He’ll massage her ass with aloe and kiss the pain away before riding her. She can call out sick and he’ll tend to her every need. And if she acts out, well, he’ll just pull her onto his lap and make her sit, bouncing on his cock, bringing that sweet heat back to her ass.

“More....” Helen begs him through gritted teeth, “Harder, John.”

She is a glutton and he will do anything to please her.

John spanks her ass until there are tears streaming down those pretty pink cheeks. And then a little more for good measure.

“Fuck me!” She begs him as he runs a hand down her ass. It’s so fucking warm.

“You haven’t earned that yet.”

He grabs her by the hair and brings her back, up onto her knees.

Sucking his cock at the wrong time was what got her into this mess.

And there are so many ways to punish his bad girl. Perhaps he’ll lick her sweet cunt until she can no longer bear it and then he’ll walk away, leaving her desperate to come.

Or maybe he’ll tie her up and fuck her until she passes out. And then he’ll keep going.

But for now, he’s going to remind her exactly why she had a bruised ass and tears on her face. He uses his thumb to open her mouth and shoves his cock into her mouth, not giving her even a moment to prepare. Her eyes water all anew as she desperately tries to breathe and John smiles.

“So pretty when you choke, babygirl.” He tells her and wipes a tear with his thumb.


End file.
